as the sea turns red
by the alphabet soup
Summary: In which Marina is visited by an angel and goes on something like an adventure but not nearly as dangerous.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lorien Legacies.

**Title:** as the sea turns red

**Summary:** In which Marina is visited by an angel and goes on something like an adventure but not nearly as dangerous.

**Note:** I haven't decided whether or not I will have any pairings in here, but the other characters will eventually appear within the story. I don't think this will be too terribly long, maybe six chapters at the most.

* * *

**Prelude**

Silence washes over her as her eyes open lazily to see people crowding around her. Their lips move but she hears nothing; she wonders if they have forgotten how to speak. Her head rolls lazily to the left, then the right, but when she tries to move her limbs she cannot. Again she attempts to lift her arms. And again. And again. And again. Her lips part as tears roll down her face. Why can't she move them? Why can't she move her arms?

Her throat begins to constrict as the tears roll more quickly down her face. She tries again and again to move her arms, then her legs, but she fails and the people around her begin to cry, but why should they cry if they have never met? What reason could they possibly have?

The silence is broken by a strangled scream which she is only half aware of making. Her eyes close, and the world fades.

* * *

Her eyes open to a figure clothed in black.

She decides she's having a dream because what look like wings are sticking out from the figure's back. As her eyes focus the figure glides closer and places a hand on Marina's forehead, so just when she thought she might understand the situation she was doomed to sink into silence.

Had she been awake she would have laughed.

* * *

"Marina, wake up."

But she doesn't want to because here the world makes sense and the sky gives off the same shade as twilight, and her lips form a perpetual smile she refuses to ever let fade away.

"_Marina_."

A gasp escapes her lips as her eyes fly open, and again she sees the figure in black who doesn't quite look like a person. They wear their black hair in a braid while their skin makes them appear Middle Eastern. The wings remain but only as blurred objects in the background as if they aren't attached to the figure in front of her who eyes her with childlike fascination.

"Come with me."

She wants to object but this figure might be able to take her anywhere and it has been so long since she was allowed to be happy, so she nods because she still hasn't deciphered exactly what 'come with me' implies. Her vision goes dark and she imagines that her lips form a smile.

* * *

The two stand in the middle of the city which she has only begun to call home. The figure looks as if they are contemplating something so Marina takes the moment to understand what has happened. She looks down as her clothes and they are the same as the ones she wore at the party, but she cannot figure out how she came to be in a hospital bed with someone who appeared to be an angel looking over her. The cold is the same as it was that night, maybe more unpleasant, and she looks to her companion clad in black and decides this wasn't the smartest idea she has gone through with.

"You'll be with your friends shortly, don't worry." Their voice is tense as if they are expecting something. "Once this is finished everything will be back to normal."

"Once what is finished? Where are you taking me?"

"The past. I wish to show you something."

The figure begins walking at a leisurely pace now, their hands falling stiffly at their sides and a slight glow radiating off of their body. Slowly Marina follows them because this strange figure has wings, and despite her disbelief in angels she feels inclined to believe this person is one.

"What's your name?"

The figure stops walking and molds their face in the imitation of a frown as if they are not yet used to forming human expressions. "I don't have one. The lesser angels never do."

Marina raises her eyebrows. "Everyone needs a name."

"Not if your existence has no need for one." the figure replies in a tone that can only be described as sorrowful. Several scars have stitched together a patch of skin on the angel's neck.

"How about Six?" Even before the words leave her lips Marina knows such a suggestion is foolish, but the figure nods as if to approve.

"Then my name is Six. Now, shall we begin?"

With feather-light feet the two walk, one with an idea of what is to happen and the other with only the hand of an angel to guide her.


End file.
